Death Of A Bachelor
by Fabray-Lopez
Summary: He enjoyed searching for bodies to warm his bed. He enjoyed dancing and drinking. He never thought he'd enjoy falling for her. Quinn genderswap.
**Warning: It's a genderswap story, Quinn is Quinten here. Plus, the story is un-beta-ed.**

Panic! At The Disco song "Death of a Bachelor" gave me this idea.

 **XXXXXXXX** **XXXXXXXX**

 **Death of A Bachelor**

 **XXXXXXXX**

 _Do I look lonely?_

 _I see the shadows on my face_

 **XXXXXXXX**

Quinten gives a doorman a small nod as he walks into a bar. He stops and glances around the dimly lit room. He finds himself surrounded by both- pretentious assholes and Barbie girls- looking for a wild night. And that's what he's looking for. He feels at home.

He quickly smooths his suit, opens the first two buttons of his shirt and runs his hand over his blonde hair. Then he quickly shoots a look to his shiny shoes.

He's ready to kill.

The place is too far away from collage; no students with boners in their pants to grind on each other.

It's a perfect place for a hunt.

The energy and music flows through him, he feeds from it. Everyone feeds from it. Every docile body drinks the energy at the form of smiles and horny whispers.

He has started to miss this place.

Outside is cold. The Spring's weather is ruthless, the wind is still biting and the view is still depressing.

Here is warm. Bodies mingling together in a barely visible dance floor. It looks like a mass of shadow covered it, a one organ breathing and moving in the same rhythm.

He approaches his usual spot at the bar.

It's a perfect spot to find his targets, to know them before they meet. Plus, the drinks here are worth selling your soul.

He motions a bartender over.

"Ah, the lady killer is back," the bartender smirks. "Have a target already," he asks.

"I just came, Puck." Quinten smiles and then chuckles. "But I did saw few worth trying."

"Leave few to me to charm." Puck rakes his eyes over the girl, sitting alone.

Sure, Puck has this charm around him, but his lies to girls' ears fills their hearts faster than his tries at being a gentleman.

He knows him from a high school. Well, actually, he knows him all his life.

Irreplaceable friend he is.

Quinten's mother never liked him. "He's a bad influence on you, son," She'd say. "He's going to take you down." She'd continue to ram it in his head.

But here they are, ten years later, and still haven't been locked into a prison.

"You're as charming as a bulldog, my friend, don't even try," says Quinten, giving him a teasing smirk.

"They do have their way into one's heart," Puck says. "Now stop wasting my time, what do you want?"

He orders a drink and his eyes falls on the lonely girl. "Another drink for this woman from me."

The bartender smirks, shaking his head.

The girl taps her phone, her fingers moves idly. She slowly, without looking, picks the glass and swirls the whiskey in her glass.

 **XXXXXXXX**

 _People have told me I don't look the same  
Maybe I lost weight_

 **XXXXXXXX**

"A blind date or a heartbreaking love," Quinten asks, cocks his head to side as he search for an answer in her posture and reaction.

"Not interested," she snaps.

Quinten looks at Puck, raising his eyebrow.

Puck coughs into his fist, hiding his laugh. He makes a gun with his fingers, mouthing "Pow" at Quinten before a loud annoyed "Excuse me." was heard.

He doesn't ask her what her problems are for the rest of the night.

That night he comes back home with a beautiful girl on his arm.

 **XXXXXXXX**

 _I'm playing hooky, with the best of the best  
Put my heart on my chest, so that you can see it too_

 **XXXXXXXX**

Another day he comes back in the same bar. The same faces greet him with the smile on their faces. He drinks for a while, searching for a girl to charm and take home. As he finds her, like a predator he stalks toward his pray. An attractive smile on his face, his hair intentionally messed, making him look handsome.

At first it was fun, but now his attention vanishes from her, looking for a next girl.

He sees her again. That lonely girl playing with her phone.

"A stranger can give a better advice than anybody else." He offers to her.

"Are you Oprah Winfrey? If not, I don't see how could you," she says, not once lifting her head to look at him. "Can I tell you a secret," she asks, and leans closer to him. He meets her hallway, protruding his ear to her. His skin tingles as she blows hot breath on his ear. "Turns out I'm gay." She smirks. "Now shoo away."

"I wasn't hitting on you," he says, feeling blood settling in his pale cheeks.

"You may have not hit on me, but I could hear your panting miles away, it's distracting."

"Such a pretty face shouldn't- "

"And now you're hitting at me." She lets out a painful sigh. "Walk away, handsome. I don't need a robot to tell things I already know." She gulps the remaining drop of the liquid. "You- with that silly haircut- another one."

"Maybe you shouldn't," Puck says, eyeing her carefully.

"Look me in the eyes, boy toy. Do I look drunk," she asks, stabbing her eyes at Puck.

He shifts at his spot uncomfortably. "You're drunk."

"I can't focus on your face because it's ugly, not because I'm drunk. Now fill it, squirrel."

Quinten looks at her one last time and leaves her alone, finding another girl to spend a night with.

 **XXXXXXXX**

 _I'm walking the long road, watching the sky fall  
The lace in your dress tangles my neck, how do I live?_

 **XXXXXXXX**

The next time when Quinten comes back in the bar it is after a week.

It's a night time and it'll close soon.

His eyes narrows as he hardly keeps himself from yawning loudly. His jacket hanging on his elbow and his shirt is wrinkled.

He goes to his spot.

Puck shoots him a large grin, his hazel eyes hardly focusing. Maybe it's because he's drunk, or maybe it's because it's two in the morning.

That girl, the same damn girl is here.

But Quinten can't help himself, he quickly rakes his eyes over her.

Even if her appearance is disheveled, she has something elegant about herself.

She looks better than she looked last week. Her black raven hair is pulled into a ponytail and she is sporting an ill-fitting hoodie.

She should look bad, right?

She doesn't really look beautiful, unkempt mostly, but she looks pretty.

Puck leans closer to her and she run her hand through his hair. "What the hell is on your head? It looks like a roadkill."

Quinten laughs loudly, making Puck roll his eyes.

"It's a Mohawk, babe- it's a chick magnet," Puck exclaims. "See, even you can't resist it."

She stops for a second, her hand stills on his head. He raises his eyebrow. "Well it looks silly and your head is kind of big and shiny, you know girls can't resist a bling." She smirks, pushing his head away.

"You know what else is big?" Puck wiggles his brows.

"I doubt it."

Quinten chuckles, shaking his head. "She's a killer, man."

Puck puts his hands on his heart. A wounded expression settles on his face. "You wounded me, woman."

It was the first time he hears her laugh. It shakes off her stoic expression and it's beautiful to see her lost her guard.

Quinten's ear tingles as a pleasing feeling washes over his body.

He likes that feeling more than he likes girls coming underneath him.

 **XXXXXXXX**

 _The death of a bachelor  
Oh  
Letting the water fall  
The death of a bachelor  
Oh_

 **XXXXXXXX**

The next time he comes, he doesn't see her. But her presence still lingers. His eyes search for her in a crowd, but he doesn't find her.

 **XXXXXXXX**

 _Seems so fitting for  
Happily ever after  
Oo  
How could I ask for more?  
A lifetime of laughter  
At the expense of the death of a bachelor_

 **XXXXXXXX**

"It's actually a nice place," she says one day.

He looks around himself, searching for a person she was talking.

"I was talking with you, prince charming." she rolls her eyes. A voluntary smirk crawls on her lips.

He bends his wrist, bringing his fingers to his chest and he playful pulls his best shocked face.

She rolls her eyes again.

"So can I come closer," he asks.

She puts her hand up, stopping his movements. "Better stay where you are, Romeo."

He shrugs, giving her a smile. "Puck owns it"

"Puck? That squirrel head?" She says, her eyes falling on Puck.

He's serving a little group of ladies. He grins at them and licks his lips every time he looks down their cleavages.

"His father left this hole by a will or something," Quinten says. "That old bastard didn't even think what a huge responsibility he was giving to a child he barley saw."

"It doesn't actually look dirty. It looks fancy- like prices here." She comments, raising her dark eyebrow.

"Because Noah invested everything he had. Some sort a daddy issue he has. Wants the dead to be proud," he says, lifting a beer bottle to his lips.

"Noah?"

"Puck."

She scrunches her face, turning her head away from him and shakes it.

"His name's Noah and his surname's Puckerman."

"And yours," she asks.

He scratches his cheek. "I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours." He gives her a coy smile.

"Are we playing kindergarten?"

He shrugs, cheekily cocking his head.

"Santana," she says.

"A beautiful name for a beautiful lady." He nods his head, smirking as her she sighs, shaking her head. "Name- Quinten."

"A beautiful name for a suave lad."

"Who even says lad?"

She makes a low sound like a bee and doesn't say anything.

The conversation ends for this night. She looks at her drink and he looks at the dance floor.

 **XXXXXXXX**

 _I'm cutting my mind off  
It feels like my heart is going to burst  
Alone at a table for two and I just wanna be served_

 **XXXXXXXX**

He tries to come back every week. Sometimes Santana is there, sitting on a stool. Sometimes she scrolls her phone, sometimes she teases Puck, sometimes she looks miserable.

Sometimes she doesn't appear for the next two weeks.

And here she is, once again on the same spot, a spot that became hers. A spot that Quinten wouldn't let anyone else sit.

A year later and she still comes her.

They both, he and Puck, cam proudly say that she's the damn best wing(wo)man they ever had.

Every week Quinten sees her she looks more and more stunning. Hoodies and jeans changed into tight short dresses, a ponytail changed into a waterfall around her face. Bust most important a scowl changed into a sultry smirk.

Quinten changed his home into a bar. The lonely, cold apartment he paid bills were only there to keep his bed.

"No, Quinn, panting into my hair won't make me want you, and no, I don't want to date you," Santana says and he groans when she without looking pushes his face away with the back of her hand. "And no, you can't sit here."

"You no fun today." He pouts, lifting his eyebrows, trying to look miserable.

"You look pathetic doing that," she remarks. "Maybe shave that pathetic excuse you call a beard."

He scratches said beard. "Nah, I like it. We should drink to that." His eyes fall to her delicate fingers, her long dark nails-they're painted a black, or maybe a purple color. "Puck, two beers." He quickly shots a smile to the bartender.

"Coming right away."

"You look lovely," Quinten comments.

He can swear he sees a tiny smile, but it's masked with an eye roll.

"You look homeless," she says.

"I look handsome." He puffs his chest out, squinting his eyes, giving her a sexy look.

"As handsome as a potato can be."

"A handsome potato, then it is."

Puck quickly puts two bears. "Talk later," he quickly throws.

Quinten turns around, looking at the dance floor.

"There's a redhead on your left, she's been fucking you with her eyes from the begging," Santana says.

Quinten looks at her and she nods her head to the redhead. He looks at the said redhead, catching her stare.

"Or more likely she's stalking you." Quinten turns away, he looks at Santana and winks at her.

It's weird. He could go home, probably take this redhead with him, spend a blissful night. But he doesn't want that anymore.

"Or." She purrs, putting her hands on the stool next to her, she leans closer to him. She slowly dips her eyes lower, he follows, doing the same. Her lips, so kissable, so close to him. "We both could take her home. I'd enjoy to see you in action. And I'd definitely enjoy appreciating her beauty." She puts her hand on his knee, slowly dragging it upwards.

"Miss, are you saying what I think you're saying," he asks, his voice low and deep. A needy whimper almost escapes his lips as her hand slides near his groin.

She slowly licks her lips. "How about you shave that ugly rug from your face and we'll talk then."

Her eyes twinkles and she smirks again. She puts the bottle's top to her mouth, wrapping it with her full lips, and fucking him with her eyes.

"Tease." He breaths out.

She laughs- that one when hidden dimples appears on her cheeks and eyes lit up a room.

 **XXXXXXXX**

 _And when you think of me am I the best you've ever had?  
Share one more drink with me, smile even though you're sad_

 **XXXXXXXX**

"Do you ever stop and then think for a while," she asks. "Like you're getting old, actually old, and your life's going nowhere?"

"I don't know about you but I'm getting more handsome every day." Quinten run his hand over his recently shaved cheek. The skin is smooth, something he has missed.

"You're actually getting delusion more and more," Santana says.

"I may be getting older but I'm doing with my life what I always wanted." He shrugs.

"You're spending your nights in a bar, with a pseudo lesbian and a man-child. You take girls home, but not actually to your parents. How's that a real life?"

"I thought you are full lady loving." He frowns.

"That's why I hate people. They always think but they never ask," she scratches the label from the bottle. "But we're not talking about that."

"You said it so yourself." He grabs the bottle away from her hands. "Why not talk about that? What are you doing with your life? Giving yourself a label?"

She looks at him and then down at the bottle. "I believe that," she says. "It easier to accept what people think of me, to see the image they see."

"Isn't that harmful," he asks.

"It ruins your life. You find yourself in a bar with a playboy bartender and a bachelor. You find yourself in a stupid city."

"In a stupid city that never sleeps." Quinten adds. "We should date," He then quickly says.

"Not going to happen."

"Sooner or later it'll happen."

"Ah, it sounds like a promise. I hate promises. You know, I had a _fiancée, she actually promised me the stars and the moon."_

 _"What happened," he asks._

 _"It's kind of funny story. My girlfriend went to warm other bed. And the funny part is that she went to a man." She laughs sharply, making him wince. "I was always there. Taking away the harm, being a solid wall so she couldn't get hurt. She laughed while I cried inside. And she just so easily left me, said I'm not worth it. I gave away my pride, myself, to be with her. I was bullied, but I told myself for her I'll swim the ocean, dive through the fire. I actually would have forgiven her cheating, but I wasn't enough."_

 _He puts his arm around her shoulder and she leans into him without a fight._

 **XXXXXXXX**

The death of a bachelor  
Oh  
Letting the water fall  
The death of a bachelor

 **XXXXXXXX**

After that night he completely stops sleeping with random girls. No more night stands every week. No more furious kisses. No more awkward mornings.

Santana and Puck doesn't question him anymore. Puck has a worried look on his face, but Quinten doesn't care because Santana has this tiny smile.

And that's how his love story starts. He wants to say that it started fast, that it's taken him completely by the guard.

But it didn't.

It was slow.

She didn't come to his life, shaking it from the core.

She slowly blended with his lifestyle and became his friend. He never hid his feelings. And like Puck's flirting with Santana, she was aware, but she never questioned it.

 **XXXXXXXX**

Seems so fitting for  
Happily ever after

 **XXXXXXXX**

"So we're totally getting on, my dick's inside her, and everything, and suddenly a door opens. A big biker man stands there. And I'm like 'fuck, I'm going die a happy man'. It was a chase of Tom and Jerry. I'm, like, all naked, and he's screaming and she's like 'oh, baby, it's not what it looks like'. So I ran outside, no phone, no pants, nothing. I hid behind bushes, till I found a bike," Puck says, chuckling at hearing Santana lose her shit.

"Oh god, imagine Puck behind bars because he was flashing," Quinten says, shaking his head.

"And being a little submissive bitch," she smirks. "I'll drink to that."

"You, my bro, won't get anything." Puck glares at her, but it breaks as she stuck her tongue. "I'm good with my tongue too."

"I doubt it."

"As fun as it is," Quinten says. "I have a job I have to keep." He stands up, fixing his messed shirt.

"Wait for me," she asks. Knowing how to play her card, she looks at him with her big drunk eyes and a satisfaction full smirk.

"Leave me. I don't care," Puck says, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.

Santana wobbles as she stands up. "You know we'll come back, squirrel." She throws her hands around his neck, bringing him closer and sloppily pecks his cheek.

"Yeah, yeah." Puck pats her back.

Outside, he stops and smells the city air. The coldness immediately envelopes his body, giving new energy and strength.

"Are you waiting for your white horse or did you lost your head, blonde," Santana asks, shoving him playfully.

"It's a nice night." He throws his arm around her petite shoulders when she stumbled to him. "And you, m'lady, need a cab."

"I have a better plan," she says, wriggling her fingers, beckoning him closer. He bends, deciding to amuse her. "How about you take me home." She breaths into his ear.

"Where are flowers and candies? I'm not so easy, seduce me first," he says, chuckling as she slaps his chest.

But he takes her home and it's awkward at first because she fucks him with her eyes and he's trying to be a gentleman, offering his bad while he takes a couch.

"I didn't take you here for a night stand," he says as she stalks closer to him. "I'm not going to take an advantage on you."

"Quinten, we're both adults here. I'm not going to regret this," she says, putting her hands on his braod chest. "Well, I'll obvious be a bitch in the morning and demand a breakfast," she quickly adds with a charming smile and a shrug.

He isn't a womanizer anymore; he doesn't take girls to his bed. But it's Santana, his friend, not just anybody he's going to fuck and leave.

She tiptoes and brings her face closer to his.

He's too weak to fight it.

He kisses her enthusiastic. It's their first kiss- it's kind of wet and they don't find their rhythm for a moment- but it's perfect.

She tangles her fingers into his short hair, massages his scalp with her nails, making a shiver of lust run down his body.

He wants her, he wants her now and forever.

An animalistic grow leaps from his throat and she smirks sinfully into his mouth.

He believes that they belong together. She only needs to adjust to that idea, only needs to know that he'll be here, next to her, waiting.

She takes his bottom lip between her teeth, tugging it down, while her hands slides under his jacket, pulling it from his shoulders.

He wants to rip that dress from her body, but he waits. He can be patient.

She isn't a virgin, he doesn't need to treat her like she will break, but he wants to treat her like a queen.

She will lead this and Quinten will follow.

He throws his jacket somewhere on the ground and grabs her waist.

"Are you really taking your time," she asks, widening her eyes and lifting her eyebrows. "I'm horny, I can feel that you're horny." She smirks and he rolls his eyes. Obvious. "I need it hard, babe. No time for romance."

But he doesn't take initiative.

She scoffs, her fingers working the buttons of his sky blue shirt, but irritated she just rips them.

"Sure, break my things. That what I get for taking a woman to my house."

Santana smirks, scratching her nails down, his abdominal muscles twitch. He isn't a bodybuilder but his body is firm and lean. It's arousing, seeing her enjoying his body.

His hard, painfully so. And she almost gingerly maps his body with her fingertips, that seems filled with an electricity because wherever she touches him it runs down to his core. She unbuttons his pants and picks a zipper.

He isn't frozen either. He graces her body with his touches, she grunts as he distracts her.

They find his bedroom, leaving a trail of his clothes and her dress behind them.

She pushes him to toward the bed and he falls graceless. Santana straddles him and he kisses her.

It's so intimate, so them.

Quinten never wants to let go.

Soon they losses the remaining of their clothes. And soon there's no untouched place, no space left without a mark.

Santana doesn't let him get bored. And when she guides him to her entrance, he slowly thrusts inside.

She's tight and warm, and wet.

She's perfect.

She tightens herself around him and he groans.

She's going to be a death to him.

He fills her to the hilt and keeps still, enjoying the feeling.

But she doesn't have what he does- a patience. She moans, setting a pace and he lets her. He cherishes her. When she close, he rolls them over and fucks her fast and hard. Something he know how to do. She comes and he follows, but that doesn't mean they're finished.

 **XXXXXXXX**

How could I ask for more?  
A lifetime of laughter  
At the expense of the death of a bachelor

 **XXXXXXXX**

"Do you want to see a magic trick," Puck asks.

"Did you spent hours practicing it, while checking yourself in the mirror." Santana smirks.

"I did, and it's absolutely amazing."

"Your butt or your magic trick," she asks.

"Babe, thank you. You're finally seeing my efforts to impress you," Puck says, grinning like an idiot. "Finally, I can be Aladdin and you can be Jasmine."

"Not going to happen," Santana scoffs.

"But it did happen with a lady killer."

"He still haven't taken me to a date," she says, grinning cheekily at Quinten.

"Well then, hypothetically speaking if I were to ask you to a date would you say yes," Quinten ask, smirking at her.

"Totally no. Sorry, dude. My boobs start to sweat from the lack of your game."

He drops the smirk. "Serenades and roses?"

"That would make my teeth ache from the sweetness."

"A movie and a dinner?"

"I'd enjoy free food."

"I'd enjoy it too." Puck interrupts. "We could make a double date and Santana could introduce me to her pretty friends. "

"Just no."

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 ** _Did you like it? Or was it just boring nonsense?_ **


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